


Everyone's Cup of Tea

by dicks



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 33, 8059, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicks/pseuds/dicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After another non-heterosexual sexfest dream involving his peers, Ryohei begins to hate himself a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone's Cup of Tea

Ryohei has secrets. Well technically everybody has secrets, Ryohei thinks, and he has more than a handful of them, like the one time he accidentally peed in his pants out of excitement during Daiki Kameda flyweight-title rematch in Kobe, but that was entirely a different story and it’s not something Ryohei likes to reminisce about in his spare time, or any other time for that matter, but this particular secret is somebody else’s secret, no make it twobody else’s secrets and contrary to popular belief, Ryohei is good at keeping them.

But it’s not as easy as he thought.

-

Don’t go there. That’s what he keeps telling himself over and over as he watches Yamamoto-san slicing tuna for nigiri at the counter. It’s sushi night again. Once every two or three months they gather at Takesushi for a ‘family-bonding dinner’ as the mafia kid calls it, but that isn’t the problem because Ryohei loves sushi and loves bonding, and he believes in sharing activities among friends and family, and it’s good, Ryohei thinks, in order to improve his interpersonal relationship skills. Or something superbly cool like that.

Ryohei’s eyes find the clock on the wall, he’s early he figures. Nobody else has arrived yet aside from Gokudera. It’s been almost fifteen minutes since Yamamoto made an excuse to go up to his room and soon after Gokudera had disappeared in the same direction and Ryohei briefly wonders what is happening up there, but no, don’t go there he reprimands himself. This is why he hates secrets. Other people’s secrets especially. They are like parasites. They are not for him to keep. He watches Yamamoto-san who is now smearing a small portion of wasabi along the middle of the tuna slices. His mind flips involuntarily to images of Gokudera bending over the school table while Yamamoto is behind him, pushing—

Oh man. Don’t go there.

They are probably doing it on the futon right now, his mind stubbornly insists, or maybe on the bed. He’s never been in Yamamoto’s room before, he doesn’t really know, although he personally thinks a bed would be more comfortable for those kinds of physical activities, not that he has any experience in that particular field, but he’s done a lot of research. God, they should’ve locked the goddamn door, really, because Ryohei can’t unseen it now. Knowledge can be acidic sometimes. And from what he gathered from the incident in the classroom that day, Ryohei thinks Gokudera is an insufferably loud fuck, and now he probably has his hairless, skinny legs hooked over Yamamoto’s shoulders at some weird angle and Yamamoto is probably moving his hips in some studly-muscley way that would make even Ryohei feel a little in awe, and a little proud in the spirit of sportsmanship before he realizes the extreme wrongness of his chain of thoughts.

Ryohei’s left eye twitches a little as he pushes those morbid thoughts somewhere he’d never go and visit again. Yamamoto-san’s low humming over a half-full plate of nigiri keeps Ryohei from breaking out into song and rudely flipping the fuck out right in the middle of the restaurant.

Later, when Takesushi is down to a roomful with well-fed, sleepy (probably inebriated) people, he pats Tsuna’s on the back and excuses himself from the table. Sawada’s a great friend, Ryohei thinks, though the guy constantly has this look like he’s about to experience some epileptic fit or something, but poor little guy. One of these days he’d take Tsuna up for some training or a friendly jog around the park, soon, he promises himself. He walks pasts few tables and stops by Yamamoto at the counter.

“So, huh, you got bed or futon up there?” he asks before he can’t even stop himself. Because damn.

Yamamoto scratches the back of his head and laughs at the random question because that’s what Yamamoto does, Yamamoto is random.

Behind him Gokudera’s eyes are murderous.

-

Ryohei always enjoy being at the Sawada residence because it makes him feels warm and ‘bonded’, and there are always snacks. Besides, almost everyone is here most of the time and Kyoko loves being with the kids, so sometimes he just tags along. Sometimes he comes just for the food. Sometimes he doesn’t even know why. Things just happen.

Right now Ryohei is chewing the last taiyaki while watching Gokudera and Lambo in a screaming match. Talk about bonding. Lambo is on the verge of crying his eyes out. Gokudera won’t shut up. Somewhere in the background Yamamoto is trying to calm them both, which isn’t working at all, apparently.

“Don’t make me wanna blow you too, idiot,” Gokudera glowers under his bangs.

Bet you did that already, Ryohei briefly thinks and cringes silently. He’s aiming for something intelligent to say because Sawada’s looking like he just lost a pet or something, and Ryohei is just trying to help when he says, “Oi! Octopus-head, you’re extremely noisy!”

“Excuse me?” Gokudera hisses through his teeth. It’s kinda funny how fast his face changes color when he’s mad.

Ryohei rolls his eyes and refrains from hissing in response. Tsuna is chewing on his bottom lip, now looking like he just lost even more than a pet.

“Next time I’ll let this brat wipe snot on your pants. See if you’d like that numbskull,” Gokudera snarls.

Of course Ryohei wouldn’t like that. But sometimes it is important to be right, even if it’s something snot-related, he goes, “Dude, it’s just snot!”

“It wasn’t just fucking snot, turf-head!”

“Language, octopus-head! Language!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, no, you shut your pretty potty mouth up!”

There is silence for a moment or two until someone clears his throat. And then Ryohei manages to ‘eeep’ away before Gokudera’s ringed-fist connects with his skull.

-

It is so unfair, Ryohei thinks in his defense, because Octopus-head’s mouth is potty. And it totally isn’t his fault that Gokudera’s lips sort of pretty. To be honest he thinks Gokudera is in fact, somewhat nice-looking but in a very disturbing way, especially when he smiles without killing intent, in which Ryohei notes, only when it comes to Sawada. Gokudera’d turn into this brilliantly-grinning-combustible constipated puppy. And just look at him, Ryohei frowns, feeling irritatingly sappy for some reason; Gokudera’s wearing more accessories that Kyoko would. Who does that anyway? Gokudera doesn’t walk, he struts. He pouts more often than Lambo. And to say that Gokudera, otherwise known as A-Walking-Noise (at least in Ryohei’s head he does) is annoyingly noisy is an understatement because, God, he can go on and on about animals with weird scientific names like they are somewhat interesting or something, in which Ryohei deduces, probably as interesting as watching his plant grows.

But then, Ryohei reasons, he can’t blame Yamamoto though, for being gay over the other guy, because underneath the cigarette smoke and ridiculous hairstyle, Gokudera is pretty much a girl with a constant pms. And with a penis, he reminds himself. He remembers the set of low-pitch grunts he heard in the classroom that day; they weren’t too girly back then, he remembers running his eyes on the pale, smooth skin, suddenly he imagines tracing his fingers along it.

Wait. What!?

All at once streams of thoughts with exclamation marks, a couple with ‘what the fucks’ trample down his brain. Oh my god, he bemoans none too quietly, did he just have uncensored gay thoughts about Octopus-head?

-

This is why he loves boxing, he supposes. It’s all about control. He knows what his body is capable of, he knows his own limitations; he knows when to stop and how to begin. His mind on the other hand—

Ryohei’s mind seems to have its own mind. Which is currently a threat to his masculinity.

Maybe he’s collectively turning into a homosexual, Ryohei ponders in dismay, and it is entirely their fault.

-

Gokudera’s fingers, long and claw-like and curl around Ryohei’s cock, moving up and down slowly. Too slow that Ryohei feels the urge to yell at him to do something, like just anything, because goddamnit he is sure Gokudera is doing it on purpose, teasing him like this. Ryohei jerks his hips, urging him to go faster, but Gokudera smiles against the skin inside of Ryohei’s thigh and stops moving his hand altogether. “Don’t fucking move, turf-head,” Gokudera says and then licks the base of his cock. Suddenly Gokudera’s tongue is everywhere; on his balls, on the tip of his cock, lapping the precum there and Ryohei lets out an uncontrollable moan when Gokudera takes the whole length inside his mouth. Ryohei doesn’t remember closing his eyes but he feels something nudging his lips, and when he opens them, Yamamoto is on his knees at the side of Ryohei’s head, smiling, almost predatorily. Ryohei recognizes that look instantly; it’s the same look Yamamoto gives Gokudera sometimes when he thinks no one is looking.

“Suck me,” Yamamoto says.

-

The second time he opens his eyes, he is back in his room, tangled in his bed sheet, pajama pants soiled around the crotch.

He takes a deep, calm breath and lets out a choke or two, before his manly sobs awaken the whole household.

-

Someone wise once said, ‘Happens to every guy sometimes this does.’

Yep. It was Yoda. Duh.

Okay, maybe that’s a little out of context. He doubts that Yoda ever had a wet dream about any of the Jedi or something, even if he did there’s no way Ryohei could’ve known that.

Still, he can’t help but to wonder if it’s Obi-Wan.

Ryohei tells himself to shut the hell up.

-

Perhaps he shouldn’t think about it too much, Ryohei thinks over breakfast. He thinks about his favorite sport, and tries not to think about his dream. He thinks about not thinking, about how extremely difficult it is not to think when you don’t want to think. He’s never thought about anything this much before. Thinking makes the spot between his eyes hurt. The constant pounding in his head reminds him why he doesn’t allow himself to think in the first place. It reminds him of the things he avoids thinking since he got up that morning. He even considers moving away, like to Argentina maybe, since it’s the furthest from Japan and, he’ll start a whole new religion. Well, this is sucks, he thinks. But ‘sucks’ makes him thinks of things. Shit.

He feels like throwing random things at the wall and punches some inert objects, not necessarily in that order, but settles for making a pain-suffering noise at the back of his throat instead.

“What’s wrong?” Kyoko asks from across the table.

Kyoko gives him a concerned look and something inside him dies a little. Ryohei feels like an awful brother. Like the type of brother who is gay and will never get married and never to have kids; too bad, Kyoko would make such a great aunt. The type of brother who is, well, awful.

“Kyoko,” he says with emotion, “I’m counting on you to carry on the Sasagawa lineage. I’m so so so sorry! I failed you!” he exclaims, maybe weeps a little.

Kyoko blinks twice in response and Ryohei takes it as a yes. He knows Kyoko would understand because his sister is awesome like that.

-

Another day. After another non-heterosexual sexfest dream involving his peers, Ryohei begins to hate himself a little. He spends an extra hour training; twelve rounds of heavy bag work and the rest working on his abdomen and calves. He avoids the locker room and communal showers, and being surrounded with naked, sweaty male people. Good God, Ryohei thinks, he misses those days when he was a little less gay. It was a lot less complicated back then. Later when he runs into Yamamoto in the hallway, Yamamoto tilts his head to the side and gives him the look as if saying, ‘Take it easy man, we’ve all been there.’ and Ryohei wonders solemnly if he emits some kind of gay waves only detectable by gaydar or something.

Turns out even Hibari is looking on the appealing side that day; smug face, tonfa and all.

He makes a big, fat fucking mistake by telling Hibari just that.

-

Ryohei shifts on his bed, looking for a comfortable position to sleep in. Turning left will put the pressure on his arm which hurts like hell, turning left makes his head throb from his left ear right through his eye sockets; courtesy of Hibari’s tonfa of course. He settles down lying on his back staring at the ceiling.

And two hours past midnight he still can’t sleep.

One hour later he resolves that if he is going to be gay he may as well embrace it.

Okay, maybe until he finds a way to ungay himself.

Besides, Ryohei concludes another hour later, for all he knows Yoda probably was gay. What's more, the speech about how size does not matter and the whole business with Count Dooku is rather fishy in Ryohei’s opinion.

The thought somehow makes him feels lighter and he falls asleep right after.

-

He tells Kyoko the next morning and she says, “Way to go brother,” with gleeful glint in her eyes that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up slightly.

But Ryohei decides that he’d rather not know. Perhaps certain things are best to remain secret.

-


End file.
